“Is that fifty?” the Scale on the left asked.
“Shite, I thought you were counting.”
The first shook his head and tapped his finger against an open leather book resting on the side of the sink.
“It has to be fifty,” he said. “No more, no less. Death must be precise.”
“In that respect, I think we actually agree,” Odin said as he emerged from the shadows.
As the two Scale turned back, Odin offered a pompous grin, and then pitched his daggers powerfully into each of their throats. The impact knocked both of them backwards into the sink, and as the two thrashed and gasped, Odin drew back into the shadows and waited for Death to claim his victims. As he waited, Odin armed himself again and crouched in the darkness, poised to kill any Scale that would come rushing in. After an anxious moment of silence, the two Scale went limp in death and it appeared that Odin’s stealth was still intact. Flowing with the quiet, the Aeris approached the basin. As he looked over it and saw the dozens of dead snakes, the rancid smell forced him to withdraw his head. However, in his quick glance, he had noticed that one of the Scale had knocked the leather book into the sink. Suspecting that the text could explain the Scale’s earlier rite, Odin again approached the basin, and after covering his nose with his cuff, he snatched the large leather book. As a few steps sounded from above him, the Aeris paused once more in the silence, breathing slowly and evenly as he held his pose like an alert cat. The steps passed, and after a small nod, Odin laid the book on a table away from the sink and investigated the page it was left open to. The top of the page had been smeared with some of the Scale’s blood, obscuring most of the text. On the bottom of the page was the exact symbol that Odin had seen on the letter claiming responsibility for the abduction of the girls. Below the symbol were the words: The Reaper’s Covenant. As Odin continued to read the page, it seemed that the text was a list of ingredients. The ingredients were strange. One measurement was for the blood of fifty snakes.
In spite of what he had found, the new Aeris resolved that securing the girls’ safety remained his primary objective, and the implications of the symbol needed to wait.
After finishing his survey of the church’s first floor, Odin crept quietly up the church’s spiralling stairwell. As he ascended to the second floor, dozens of lit torches flared into his vision. With a few quick steps, he tucked into a corner and allowed his senses to adjust, and after regaining his vision, he began a furtive assessment of his surroundings. The second floor was centered by a long crimson red hallway that was lined with more lit torches. The flames of the torches were swaying a little, and it took Odin a moment to detect that there was an air current blowing down the hall. There were a few doors lining the hall, but as Odin studied the hallway, he suspected that the air current was coming from two gothic doors set at the hall’s end. As he crouched and attuned his ears, Odin could hear many voices behind the doorway. Most of the voices sounded male, but among the different murmurs, Odin thought he could decipher higher pitched, and likely female, voices. Believing the girls were captive behind the doors, Odin sided against the hallway’s wall and began to move towards the end of the hall. As he crept, one of the torches cast a moving shadow on the door at the end.
For a moment, Odin considered Raine’s advice.
“Shadow-game it,” the old warrior had said.
“Not this time,” Odin grinned.
As the shadow at the end of the hall materialized into a hooded figure, Odin tapped his dagger against the side of the wall, letting the sound of his blade echo down the hallway. Like an owl, the hooded Scale turned his neck to the sound.
By his own volition, Odin’s stealth was gone.
The Scale stared down the hallway; he slowly drew his hood back, allowing the torch light to reveal the snake scales painted on his face. As Odin eyed his foe, the Scale sounded a loud hiss, pulled a very long knife from his belt, and lashed his forked tongue across the end of the blade.
Odin was unimpressed.
“You shouldn’t play with knives,” he warned. “It’d be a shame if you cut yourself.”
As six more Scale emerged from the end of the hall, the initial Scale shot back his retort.
“There are greater shames than a cut,” he spat. “Your failure to save the girls, for instance, will be hard to live with.” With another hiss, the Scale drew back his knife. “Fortunately, you won’t have to live long with that burden…”
With a wild pitch, the Scale hurled the blade down the corridor. Contrary to instinct, Odin sprinted towards the barrelling blade. As he darted down the hall, he lunged onto the wall on his right. After three propelling strides off of the wall, Odin swiftly caught the thrown knife by the blade, and as he spun off the wall, he hurtled the knife back down the hallway. The knife scorched back down the corridor, and, like a harpoon, it speared its owner in the forehead. As Odin rose to his combat stance, he retrieved Sleipnir from his belt and pressed her center button to extend her two ends into a bow staff. Five of the remaining six Scale members advanced on Odin, but the Aeris quickly and precisely destroyed their efforts. The last of the Scale was at the end of the hallway trying to unlock the twin doors, fumbling nervously with the keys. Seeing his foe’s back, Odin erupted into a sprint. As he closed in on the last Scale, he used Sleipnir to vault himself into the air, and once airborne, Odin delivered a flying kick into the Scale’s spine. With a crack, the door splintered open, and the Scale’s lifeless body launched into the next room.
Odin calmly entered the locked room and began a quick assessment of the situation. The room was quite massive. At the far end, the hard rain fell outside of a huge, mostly broken window that revealed a direct view of the clock tower’s face. Massive gold torches circled the outer ring of the room, and at the center the three sisterhood girls were bound with rope to one of the room’s supporting beams. In the room there were twelve Scale members wearing dark hoods and one very large member who, by his distinct red hood, seemed to be a leader. The red-hooded Scale had a large python wrapped on his shoulders, and on the floor in front of him there seemed to be a six-foot-wide pool of crimson blood.
The leader turned directly to Odin.
“Welcome, Throne’s Eye!” he bellowed. “To the year of the serpent! To the year of your demise! I, Sykos, am your gracious host!”
As the three girls saw Odin, they began to squirm and scream for help. The Aeris quickly caught their eyes, and after nodding to give them some hope, he turned back to Sykos.
“I am giving you one last chance to let them go,” he said. “You should take it. If you don’t, tonight will end very poorly for you.”
“Arrogance,” the leader spat.
“Truth,” Odin countered.
“Oh, no,” a familiar voice said from room’s rear shadow, “we are definitely dealing with arrogance.”
After ordering the Scale to stand down, the source of the voice emerged into the torch light.
“Usis,” Odin snarled.
“Well hello, Odin,” Usis greeted.
“You’re not much,” Odin said, “but stooping to the level of Scale is below even you.”
“Please,” Usis laughed. “I am no Scale. You know the expression: the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“I think you got shortchanged,” Odin said.
Usis smirked in amusement.
“I love the climb you’ve made! You’ve made yourself a man! You should be proud of your ascent, especially now, because you’re really going to hate the fall.”
“Sorry, Usis, today is not that day.”
“I beg to differ,” Usis grinned. “The letter was delivered, was it not?”
Chloe’s prophecy flashed in Odin’s mind.
“What about the letter?” he demanded.
Usis laughed again. “Your brother is dead! The great Galian has met the scythe.”
Odin’s mind immediately recalled the leather book.
“The symbol on the letter,” he said. “You used
the Reaper’s Covenant.”
“Very good, Odin. You’re a sleuth!”
Suddenly, thirty-six reeds didn’t matter.
Suddenly, Odin’s greatest fire returned.
“You’ve just died,” he promised Usis. “You just don’t know it yet.”
“Really?” Usis scoffed. “By your hand?”
Odin’s returning stare was a sufficient answer.
“You should have never involved Galian,” he said. “You should have stayed focused on me. After everything, how could you send Death to him?”
“It was actually quite easy,” Usis explained. “Death, like any great hunter, is thrilled by the prospect of big game. Besides, I hear you two don’t even get along anymore.”
Odin’s deadly eyes locked onto the traitor.
“He is always my brother,” he seared. “He is not like you.”
“Well then you can join him in death,” Usis laughed.
With an arrogant wave of his hand, Usis turned to the thirteen Scale members present.
“Your part of the bargain is held,” he said. “You may kill him now.”
As Usis backed up to watch, each Scale but Sykos advanced on Odin.
As his minions charged Odin, Sykos’s python slid onto his outstretched arm, and the leader began to recite from a scorched scroll. The members of the Scale, armed with spears and swords, wildly converged on Odin, but Odin’s mastery of combat began to quickly suppress their attack. Odin swung Sleipnir with deadly precision, and within moments, half of the Scale were dead.
As Odin engaged the remaining Scale, Sykos finished reciting from his scroll and then threw the parchment into the deep pool of blood before him. The blood instantly began to boil, and after calmly removing his crimson hood, Sykos pulled a large dagger from his belt. The python, apparently in tune with the rite, wrapped its head around the dagger, and in the next instant, Sykos plunged the dagger deep into his own abdomen and fell into the pool of boiling blood. Odin, engaged with the Scale, noted Sykos’s actions, but failed to comprehend their significance. The confusion did not sit well with him. Unpredictability was an enemy of strategy. Odin resolved that the quarrel needed to end. He began to swing Sleipnir in methodical, devastating, death-driven arcs, and within another minute the remaining Scale were no more.
The sound of clapping, cold and slow, came from the broken window.
“Well done,” Usis said as he emerged from the shadows. “Perhaps,” he goaded while tapping the end of his sword, “you’d prefer a higher calibre of sparring.”
“Higher calibre?” Odin repeated. “Usis, you’re not ready for this.”
“Indulge me,” Usis replied.
“As you wish,” Odin said. “But first, we let the girls go. They serve you no purpose.”
“Fair enough,” Usis agreed. “Cut them down.”
While keeping a close eye on Usis, Odin backed towards the girls and drew one of his daggers. Odin addressed the girls as they cried in gratitude.
“When I cut you down,” he instructed, “you leave immediately. Do not look back. Just get to Evelyn outside.”
The girls nodded in understanding.
While carefully watching Usis, Odin released the first girl. She immediately left. After another glance over his shoulder, Odin released the second girl, but as he began to reach for the rope binding the third girl’s hands, the second girl hysterically latched onto him. The moment was all Usis needed. In a matter of seconds, Usis had pitched three blades at Odin’s back. While holding the second girl, Odin manipulated himself into a roll that just narrowly evaded the projectile daggers. As Odin looked back and realized Usis was advancing on him, he lifted the girl to her feet and then sternly spurred her out of the room. Odin watched to confirm the girl’s departure, and as he turned, he instinctively parried a combination of Usis’s sword attacks.
With the clash of their weapons still ringing in the air, the two foes backed off to size each other up.
“You’re not playing nice,” Odin jested.
Usis offered a pompous grin. “I’ve learned that mean usually wins.”
“Let’s test that theory,” Odin decided.
Odin speedily drove the left end of Sleipnir into Usis’s right shin, and as Usis lowered his sword to guard his legs, Odin drove the opposite end of Sleipnir into Usis’s throat. Usis stumbled back, coughing as he grabbed his own neck.
“Too mean?” Odin taunted.
Usis brought his sleeve to his mouth, and after observing the blood on his cuff, he began to circle Odin.
“The speed is commendable,” he said, “but I’m sure the defence is not.”
With ferocious speed, Usis sliced a combination of five swords attacks at Odin’s legs and core. Odin parried the first four away, and as he lunged outside the range of the fifth, he swung Sleipnir back and connected her hard into Usis’s ribs.
“Range,” Odin stressed. “It makes a hell of a difference.”
“Good point,” Usis agreed.
With a quick release, Usis hurtled one of his daggers at Odin’s heart. Odin reacted in time to deflect it, but Usis was quickly on him. The exchange of attack and parry quickly hit double digits. Usis managed to graze one of his attacks against Odin’s shoulder, but Odin rebounded with a kick that severely disabled Usis’s ankle, followed by a shoulder thrust that sent Usis tumbling to the floor.
“Face it, Usis, I am better than you. You’ve stagnated.”
Usis tried to stand, but his injured ankle would not allow it. Understanding his vulnerability, he began a desperate crawl to the open window. However, Odin’s stalking steps had remained close on his trail. As Odin towered over him, Usis snarled and spat a grim promise at his old friend.
“You may have won today,” he conceded. “But I promise you, your victory will be short lived. Hell is nigh, Odin. And she will destroy you.”
“Enough of your games,” Odin threatened as he put Sleipnir to Usis’s throat. “Speak truth or die.”
Usis grinned menacingly. “That which befell the father,” he said, “has come to befall the sons.”
“What have you done?” Odin demanded.
“Just a little exchange of information,” Usis laughed. “Forneus now knows who, what, and where you are. You, Odin, are a dead man walking.”
For Odin, it was not panic, or fear, that responded to Usis’s words. It was rage.
Usis had become prey.
Odin smashed Sleipnir into Usis’s injured ankle and then furiously stomped on Usis’s abdomen. As Usis bucked from the impact and held his stomach, Odin speedily locked Sleipnir against the front of his throat, and then drove his own knee into the back of Usis’s neck. Odin was relentless, but as Usis’s life began to dwindle, the pool of blood that Sykos had fallen into began to boil. Odin quickly assessed the situation. Every fibre in his body was driven to kill Usis, but there was still one of the girls bound to the room’s supporting beam. As Odin pressed unremittingly into Usis’s neck, Sykos emerged slowly out of the blood pool, his body soaked with a coat of crimson. His eyes, which now burned orange like hot coals, seemed to be hunting through the room. The seeking embers quickly passed Odin and Usis and landed on the final Sisterhood girl. Like a rolling boulder, Sykos began to march towards the captive girl. Seeing the threat, Odin relinquished one hand from Sleipnir and hurriedly drew one of his belt’s remaining daggers. With practiced accuracy, he launched the dagger into the rope that was binding the final girl’s hands. The rope, despite Odin’s efforts, only partially disbanded, and the girl was left terrifyingly still at the end-length of Sykos’s warpath. Odin could feel Usis dying, but despite his own desire for revenge, the traitor’s death did not outweigh the importance of the girl’s life. With a furious breath, Odin released Usis from the choke and darted across the room to engage Sykos.
As Sykos came within an arm’s length of the screaming girl, he stabbed his hands at her neck. However, after an urgent leap, Odin smacked Sleipnir down onto Sykos’s forearms, and the Scale�
�s hands immediately recoiled. Before Sykos could react, Odin threw an elbow at his jaw, and as he staggered, Odin swung a strong roundhouse kick into his back. The impact knocked Sykos airborne, and with a heavy thud his body tumbled clumsily across the floor. Speedily, Odin tried to release the final girl, but in a matter of seconds, the Scale leader sprung quickly back to his feet.
“My master has a message!” he growled.
Furiously, Sykos wrapped his hands around one of the room’s massive gold torches. The torch must have weighed close to three hundred pounds, but Sykos inhumanly lifted it into the air. Odin watched perplexed as Sykos, by some inheritance of the earlier rite, began to swing the torch as if it were the weight of a regular sword. Amid Sykos’s screams and swings, Odin’s mind began to search for a strategy. As he took inventory of the room, he first realized that the giant vacant window was a great asset. He subsequently realized that Usis was gone. Odin cursed Usis’s escape, but it was a frustration that needed to wait. Instead, Odin quickly calculated the risk and range of the giant torch, and he immediately led Sykos’s attention away from the bound girl. Sykos took the bait. As Odin used his agility to evade the Scale leader’s wild torch attacks, Sykos’s feral assaults began to smash the church into disarray. Sykos had smashed all other torches to the ground, and atop the cracked and splintered floorboards, fire had begun to consume the giant room. With flames slashing between them, Odin leapt away from another attack, and as Sykos’s weapon lodged into the floor, Odin weaved backwards towards the gaping window. With his foe falling into the trap, Odin danced away from another attack and left Sykos standing precariously in front of the open space. However, Odin remained uncertain of the limits of Sykos’s new power. He needed to test the boundaries. As the torch sailed past him in a wild arc, Odin lunged within close proximity of the Scale leader, and with their eyes only a foot apart, Odin hacked Sleipnir into the back of Sykos’s knees. Although the force caused Sykos’s knees to buckle, his reaction was not indicative of the strength Odin had used. Seeking any advantage he could, Odin methodically speared Sleipnir into one of Sykos’s fiery eyes. As the attack caused Sykos to stagger within feet of the broken window, the Scale leader began to scream, keeling over as an orange mist began to seep out of his eye socket. As the mist bled out, Sykos seemed to have greater difficulty brandishing the giant torch.
The Sons of Animus Letum Page 32